He is a fine little fellow, don't you think? I have no interest in discarding him. Besides, that would make it awfully awkward to attend the theater... And there are so few choices as it is for proper entertainment.
[He winds his hands in the tassels, then picks his mask off of his ample bosom.]
Besides, you're quite attached already as well. Surely you have fun teasing him.
You express such interest, yet the moment I give you a single detail you get upset! There is no winning with you sometimes.
[He sets the mask back down as he traces the arches over the brow with a finger.]
I had no idea you were so passionate about theatre ships, of all things. The theatre, of course I am well aware of your affinity... Surely it is simply us who are too big for it?
I did not need to know such details as that, what the two of you enjoy in your own privacy is between you, I do not care to be included in its intricacies. My imagination does well enough without your words confirming it.
[Not that he's been imagining them going at it, more that he's not an idiot and he knows more or less what they're doing when they have had sex!
He shrugs his shoulders at the theatre ship comment, his mouth pulling into an uneasy slant. Though Hythlodaeus' hand is rather distracting...]
Well, 'tis merely a thought I've had since being on his, it really is just a matter of optimal performance for a stage and its actors. While we certainly dwarf it, I can scant imagine a proper sword fight playing out with that measily stage it boasts. Can you?
Perhaps it is merely a failure of imagination. [He laughs, they both know that is far from the case, but it makes a good insult.]
You said yourself that bigger is not necessarily better. Plenty of exchanges can take place in such an intimate space. Perhaps swords of an... alternate material. As it were.
[He merely gives Hythlodaeus a look at the imagination comment, but then that look turns into one of baffled amusement a moment later.]
Do you honestly think he'll only do erotic plays? It fits the expectations of this world, no doubt, and perhaps his flirtatious character, but I imagine he might crave for some variety for the sake of his artistic soul.
Of course not! But I'm not the one criticizing his little boat.
[He encircles Emet-Selch's muscular waist with his arms, enjoying the act of simply speaking at such close proximity.]
I think he needs a few more actors for the script he brought me, Ipsen's Journey. ...Perhaps you could assist him if you find it so lacking. Enlarge it somewhat? Or join his troupe?
[It's almost an involuntary reaction to Hythlodaeus' arms around him with how his own move to encircle him as well, holding him close, enjoying the warmth and proximity...
However, it doesn't stop him from raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips at the suggestion.]
I have no interest in making another man's boat larger, and even less in being part of his troupe. I would much rather be the audience, than an actor.
[Especially after all the roles he's had to play, though he's a damn good one, even if thoroughly retired.]
What is that? Ipsen's Journey? What's the synopsis?
A story of two men, two friends a long time ago without swift means of conveyance. Little men, unable to teleport or guard themselves from trouble. One day one of them receives a letter calling him back home.
[He leans into the holding, laying his head upon Emet-Selch's shoulder.]
So his friend goes with him, through treacherous lands on foot. The man who received the letter, Ipsen, has no idea why his friend would endure such hardships.
[He picks a short, lavender hair from Emet-Selch's robes and flicks it away.]
So he asks him, long into the journey, why he would go with him. And his friend's reply is merely that he wanted to go with him.
It's powerful in how simple it is, don't you think so?
[He chuckles, tapping on him for a moment. It's hardly the one liner that fully explains it all. After all, who sent the letter? Who are the villains? But it's alright.]
...There is more to it, surely. But this is as much as I know so far.
[It's simple, yes, but sometimes simple messages of the heart are the most powerful, and this one has stricken Emet-Selch in particular. His heart has ached for eons without counting, and never has it truly dulled, but how it intensifies hearing this summary of the play, of this friendship that would endure hardship for the sake of that bond, of that companionship.
It makes him think of Azem, and it makes his heart hurt. He's quiet as he holds Hythlodaeus in his arms, resting his head against his as he thinks the little summary over.]
It's beautiful.
[He finally says, little more than a whisper. Look, plays fucking get to him.]
I shall look forward to seeing the rest on that ridiculous and tiny stage.
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[He winds his hands in the tassels, then picks his mask off of his ample bosom.]
Besides, you're quite attached already as well. Surely you have fun teasing him.
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[Speaking of teasing! He glances at him as he takes his mask, raising an eyebrow at the action but doing little to stop him.]
I would not call it attached, I would name it "having a conscience", naught you'd know aught about.
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[There's a crinkle in his corner of his eyes as he smiles.]
You like his boat, don't you? You're upset because it's so small.
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[He rolls his eyes and feigns disgust with a curl of his lip.]
Bigger is not always better, but when it comes to theatre ships, size can be an important factor for performance.
[That isn't meant to sound like a dick joke, and yet...]
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[He sets the mask back down as he traces the arches over the brow with a finger.]
I had no idea you were so passionate about theatre ships, of all things. The theatre, of course I am well aware of your affinity... Surely it is simply us who are too big for it?
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[Not that he's been imagining them going at it, more that he's not an idiot and he knows more or less what they're doing when they have had sex!
He shrugs his shoulders at the theatre ship comment, his mouth pulling into an uneasy slant. Though Hythlodaeus' hand is rather distracting...]
Well, 'tis merely a thought I've had since being on his, it really is just a matter of optimal performance for a stage and its actors. While we certainly dwarf it, I can scant imagine a proper sword fight playing out with that measily stage it boasts. Can you?
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You said yourself that bigger is not necessarily better. Plenty of exchanges can take place in such an intimate space. Perhaps swords of an... alternate material. As it were.
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Do you honestly think he'll only do erotic plays? It fits the expectations of this world, no doubt, and perhaps his flirtatious character, but I imagine he might crave for some variety for the sake of his artistic soul.
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[He encircles Emet-Selch's muscular waist with his arms, enjoying the act of simply speaking at such close proximity.]
I think he needs a few more actors for the script he brought me, Ipsen's Journey. ...Perhaps you could assist him if you find it so lacking. Enlarge it somewhat? Or join his troupe?
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However, it doesn't stop him from raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips at the suggestion.]
I have no interest in making another man's boat larger, and even less in being part of his troupe. I would much rather be the audience, than an actor.
[Especially after all the roles he's had to play, though he's a damn good one, even if thoroughly retired.]
What is that? Ipsen's Journey? What's the synopsis?
no subject
[He leans into the holding, laying his head upon Emet-Selch's shoulder.]
So his friend goes with him, through treacherous lands on foot. The man who received the letter, Ipsen, has no idea why his friend would endure such hardships.
[He picks a short, lavender hair from Emet-Selch's robes and flicks it away.]
So he asks him, long into the journey, why he would go with him. And his friend's reply is merely that he wanted to go with him.
It's powerful in how simple it is, don't you think so?
[He chuckles, tapping on him for a moment. It's hardly the one liner that fully explains it all. After all, who sent the letter? Who are the villains? But it's alright.]
...There is more to it, surely. But this is as much as I know so far.
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It makes him think of Azem, and it makes his heart hurt. He's quiet as he holds Hythlodaeus in his arms, resting his head against his as he thinks the little summary over.]
It's beautiful.
[He finally says, little more than a whisper. Look, plays fucking get to him.]
I shall look forward to seeing the rest on that ridiculous and tiny stage.